


Proteus

by Factitious



Category: Terra Ignota - Ada Palmer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 06:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14278449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Factitious/pseuds/Factitious
Summary: An idea for another Hive.





	Proteus

Have I not yet mentioned Proteus, dear reader? My apologies for the omission. In my defense, the author’s task of presenting Hives must give priority to those with character of their own, before moving on to that singular faction which prefers instead the character of others.

The Proteans present themselves as a celebration of variety, a paean to the range of expression our Hive system makes possible. I cannot deny that there is something inspiring in their garish combinations: a Mason-cut suit displaying the seasonal patterns of a Mitsubishi, a sash shading from Whitelaw to Graylaw to Blacklaw, all seeming to shout “See me! Here stands one who loves this world and its people in all combinations, one in whom all others mix together to make that love known!” You may even sometimes see among their mismatched displays the silk pants of a Sybarite, or the complex spectacles of a Librarian, for Proteus does not limit itself to loving those Hives still among us, and many uniforms otherwise extinct now live on only in fossilized mimicry.

Yet their affectations can grow tiresome, their ostentation hollow. I observe that others are less willing to view their imitation as the flattery it claims to be when they themselves are imitated; the smile of a Humanist on seeing a Protean repurpose a Cousin’s wrap will fade abruptly when they notice the boot she wears underneath on one foot. The Gordian rankles seeing their sweater codes appropriated by another, even though the Proteans, who find all Hives worthy to learn from, study Brillism the most assiduously of any outside the Institute itself.

And there lurk darker forms in that sea. Those scandalous ones, officially condemned and unofficially commended by the Head Designers of their Costuming Department, who dress not in a mix of many Hives’ fashions but in one only, turning their supposed appreciation from homage to disguise. Doubtless you think to yourself, _I could never be deceived thus, Mycroft. I know my fellows for what they are, and share a bond far deeper than costume alone can hope to replicate._ Ah, I wish it were so! But these impostors, though they may not share your common purpose, though they may know only a few stock phrases of your language, benefit greatly from two things: your confidence in that bond, and your reluctance to be seen rejecting a peer. And the risk to you is small: if you gain a friend who, months later, laughingly reveals herself to never have been your Hivemate at all, then once your anger has passed, you will invariably find her eager to remain friends as she dons her next disguise, for to her you are not a victim, but an audience, and an audience is not to be dismissed.

Do they exist in your time, reader? I wonder, and were you to tell me they do not, I would wonder still. In the official figures, Proteus’s already slight membership steadily dwindles, but the Censor can only count them as they are registered. If a Protean masquerading as a Humanist chooses to make the illusion all the more complete by joining the Humanists, the conniving cowbird may raise eyebrows as her application is processed, but ultimately, even bureaucracy is not so monstrous as to deny the fundamental right of Hive mobility on a mere suspicion. But if you will indulge this author for a moment, and listen to my mere suspicion, uncertain though it may be, it is this: that the infiltration will continue until there remain no Proteans who have not subsumed themselves into the other Hives. And then? Perhaps nothing. Who but a Protean would be contentless enough to engage in such an enterprise for its own sake, with no further goal lying beyond the deception itself?


End file.
